


Under Your Skin

by missEsquire



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Philinda - Freeform, Sexy Times, Worried Skye, angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 03:33:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1729604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missEsquire/pseuds/missEsquire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Phil says he's glad Melinda is back it just seems that there's a lot more to it. This is the more to it that I imagined</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Your Skin

The little touches were starting to drive her crazy. A day hadn’t gone by since she’d come back when Coulson hadn’t touched her. It wasn’t anything over the top; they’d never been that way, but it was still getting under her skin.

 

This morning when he’d joined her outside Fitz’s room, he had touched her arm as he passed behind her and stood next to her. She could feel it through her sleeve, the imprint seeming to burn into her skin. She looked at him, puzzled _what is going on_ she thought.

“How’s he doing?” He asked, eyes focused on the pale form that looked impossibly small under the covers.

“Mostly the same,” she replies turning back to look at Fitz. “She’ll let us know when something more happens,” indicating Jemma asleep with her head on the foot of his bed as if she’d fallen asleep looking at him.

 

Jemma woke shortly after Coulson and May left. She looked at Fitz and the regret and guilt that had been eating away inside her flared up again. When Fitz had confessed his feelings for her she’d been too confused; her head jumbled up, to voice her own. _Fitz wake up, I need to tell you too_.

On top of that she felt responsible, so responsible. Maybe if they’d left directly after she ended the call with Coulson, Ward wouldn’t have captured them. Logic showed her it probably wouldn’t have made a difference but the ‘ _what ifs’_ kept replaying like a broken record in her mind.  

 

May had almost broken Coulson’s wrist when he’d come up behind her with the missing 0-8-4. He’d grasped her shoulder and she’d been _so_ close. She was still pumped from her fight with Ward and the effects of the Beserker hadn’t time to wear off yet.

“I zapped Garrett with it,” he’d said and she’d immediately been shocked, confused and worried; the only indication her narrowed eyes. The Coulson she knew never relished violence after the enemy had been crossed off. Was this the beginning of his second end?

He looked at her face and chuckled lightly, “he had gotten up and made himself a super soldier, spouting some nonsense about needing to ‘ _cut off the head’_.”

She’d simply raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth, and gone back to cataloguing the damage that had been done to the Bus.

 

It’s like he needed to touch her to actually believe she was still around. She understood the very core of his world had been obliterated and she was one of the last remaining links to the past but there was only so much even she could take.

The awe in his whenever he expressed his happiness that she was back cut her. He tried to hide it but she could see it clear as day and it was wreaking havoc on her emotions. She needed time to regroup but his attentions were daily.

Having such a tight leash over her emotions didn’t necessarily come naturally. It was a skill honed over the years. She’d always had time; a chance to breathe away from whatever was bringing out her feelings. This time though was different. What use would she be to him if she was gone herself?

Skye was seated on the counter in the kitchen, making herself a sandwich. She could see the lounge area and beyond it the big screen and table where she assumed Coulson would be briefing them from once they had missions again. She could see May looking at something on her tablet and she was about to call out to her when Coulson came up behind her.

She couldn’t believe what she’d just seen. She felt like she’d intruded on a private moment. Coulson had covered May’s hand with his and Skye could’ve sworn she saw a look of discomfort flit across be her face. It was so quick though so she couldn’t be sure and anyway why would May be uncomfortable around Coulson?

 

“AC is May alright?” Skye asked later on in the day. She’d concluded that something must’ve been wrong with May since she was sure of what she saw on her face.

“Yeah, well as good as can be considering the circumstances… Why have you noticed something?” he asked looking closely at Skye. He knew Skye could figure out people without even trying like she had with Tobias. He’d said she couldn’t wait to get in May’s head and she probably was.

May was far more complex to decipher. He could admit that despite their long shared history parts of her remained a mystery to him. Skye had probably picked up on something.

“Um no… I just…” she was flustered and a blush tinted her cheeks. Clearly he hadn’t been comforting her, maybe he was the cause. If that was the case there was no way Skye would be the one to tell him that May was suddenly uncomfortable around him. “I think I’m just confused, probably imagined it,” she continued as she backed out of his new office at the Playground.

Skye understood why May had left but she didn’t know why she returned. Had Coulson called her back? Had Fury talked her into it? She would totally understand if May was reluctant to come back after the way AC had treated her. But she had seemed so _okay_ with being back, happy even. Skye shook her head to try and clear her mind of the thoughts clouding her mind.

Whatever was going on between Coulson and May, she didn’t like. She really hoped May wouldn’t leave again. She could easily admit that she would miss her, deeply.

 

Coulson searched for May after Skye left. She’d planted the idea in his head and he needed to know she was okay. He felt so badly about the things he’d said to her; especially just before she’d left. If he was honest with himself he could feel her pulling away again.

The feelings he’d always had for had been so wounded when he found out. He’d lashed out like a wounded animal and he might be losing her all over again for it. Yes was back but he had recently realised that she was avoiding him.

He was trying to connect with her. He found himself drawn to her; needing to touch her. To confirm that even after he’d been a giant jerk she’d come back and for good he hoped. He knew what it was that had alarmed him further after Skye’s question.

Melinda was avoiding him.

He was again grateful for the lanyards when he saw that she was in the gym; probably working off the effects of the Berserker.

May pounded away at a punching bag, not usually how she liked to exercise but circumstances dictated. The dark emotions circling within her and mostly the heartache she was getting from Phil were threatening to pull her under and no amount of meditation was going to work. She needed to physically let it out.

At first she’d thought of getting Tripp to spar with her but she knew that what she needed was not to hold back; and she would, even if he could take it because he was one of hers now.

Her hair had come loose from her ponytail; and she was covered in a shiny sheen of sweat as she hit the bag at such a punishing pace Phil was sure it was bound to rip apart soon.

 

“Melinda,” he said softly. She stopped punching and held the bag refusing to face him. Her emotions were at the surface and one look in her eyes would let him know. She stared at the bag, at how thin it’s covering had become where she was punching; the irony that they were so alike, almost coming apart at the seams.

She felt him come up behind her and prayed he wouldn’t touch her. _Just please not right now_ but when had the gods ever deigned to listen to her pleas. She felt his warm hand on the small of her back and an involuntary moan escaped her.

That immediately got his attention even more, “did I hurt you Melinda? Are you okay?” The concern in his voice pushing her closer to the edge as her fingers tightened on the bag.

“I’m fine Phil,” she managed. _Now please just leave me_ she thought, a whimper almost escaping her. Usually he’d have taken the hint and gone but there was _something_ …

He grasped her shoulders and turned her towards him. She initially resisted but turned eventually. She was tired of pretending, of hiding. _So what if he knows? He’s already sent me away, what could be worse? Tempting fate Melinda_ she chuckled shortly and let go of the bag _how’s that worked for you so far?_

When she was facing him, he tucked the loose strands of hair behind her ears and lifted her chin. Her eyes remained looking down however. _Maybe it’s not a good idea to tempt fate_ she thought.

“Look at me,” he almost whispered. She finally did as her shoulders sagged, the fight completely out of her.

When their eyes finally met his immediately widened in response. He’d always known that they were the most expressive pair he’d ever seen. He could also vividly remember how the light in them had dimmed after Bahrain.

Now he could see the pain, the guilt, the sadness and remorse; and something else… In that moment all he wanted to do was take away that pain and leave that one thing in her beautiful eyes.

He slowly drew closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers; relishing in the way hers widened and her quick intake of breath.

Their lips met as his hands rose to cup her face. It was a gentle, passionate kiss and when they parted he leaned his forehead against hers, as they both broke out in smiles.

His hands left her face, sliding down to her shoulders as their lips met again. Tentatively her hands slipped under his coat gripping his shirt at the waist.

As the kiss intensified her arms locked around his neck one sliding into his hair. His hands found themselves at the small of her back and he was soon guiding her backwards.

After they parted again, his lips travelled down her neck and he sucked briefly but intensely on her pulse point. He already had her against the wall; he wanted to take things slowly. The truth was this thing between them had been growing for so long that neither of them had much control. 

When he drew back to look at her, the look in her hooded eyes promised him immeasurable pain if he even thought about stopping. He lifted her, her legs wrapping around his waist as he pressed firmly into her. He was kissing along her neck drawing heavy sighs from her, her hands working under his shirt looking for skin since he’d removed his coat awhile before.

His fingers were slowly working her black tank top up as he sought more and more skin. Only when he realised that she’d gotten rid of his tie and was quickly working on his buttons did he think that they may need someplace more private.

He eyed the gym bathroom door but simply couldn’t swallow there first time being in a bathroom. They needed a bed. _Whose room is nearer_ he wondered internally.

“My room,” she said and he looked at her intently for a moment wondering, not for the first time, if she could read his mind; hear his thoughts.

Melinda had chosen the room closest to the base’s gym knowing she was going to use it a lot, the closer the better. He promptly set her down and she pulled him towards her room; the third door on the right after the gym.

Once he shut the door she was on him again, almost tearing his shirt off him in her haste to remove it. He removed her tank once she rid him of his shirt and for a moment they just looked at each other.

The spell was broken when Melinda reached out to touch his scar in much the same she had all those months ago. This time she pinned Phil against the door her mouth moving down his neck onto his chest a light hand around his throat keeping him in place.

The moan that she drew from him as she lapped and scrapped her teeth on a nipple went straight to her core, delicious tingles running down her spine. His hand in her hair drew her head away from his chest as the other ventured down to her hip.

Phil drew his teeth over her chin, licking towards her lips which he claimed in a kiss that had Melinda’s toes curling. They reached to remove the other’s pants at the same time, Melinda succeeding in getting his off first.

Once they were left in their underwear, Phil turned her around, her back to his chest and guided her to stand just at the foot of her bed. His hands settled on her shoulders sliding down her back across her hips and stomach finally cupping her breasts through her sports bra. Her head was against his shoulder as he nuzzled his nose into her neck.

“Phil,” she moaned a hand rising to grab hold of his hair and pull him in for a kiss as she ground into him. Her other hand grasped the back of his thigh, nails sinking into the flesh to keep him as close as possible.

He turned her around and lowered her onto the bed and followed her immediately, covering every inch of her with his frame; the desperation that been present after they had kissed the second time had given way to a need to reaffirm the meaning of their silent communication, to show the depth of their feelings.

They kissed again, hands exploring heated skin as they stoked the fire steadily burning within them. Phil suddenly found himself on his back Melinda looking down at him through the curtain of her hair that had somehow come out of its ponytail completely.

She ground against him and drew her nails down his chest, earning a growl from him. She dropped a quick kiss on his lips then slithered down him kissing as much of him as she could, nibbling and biting in places. She was surprised to discover the Phil Coulson was ticklish around his navel and could imagine how fun that would be to use against him in the fut_

Her thoughts were cut short when she found herself on her back again and a giggle escaped her. Phil smiled at her wondering if he’d ever heard her make that sound before, _laugh_ definitely but _giggle?_ Melinda May giggled; he smiled thinking about telling anyone when he realised no one would probably believe him. It was alright he realised since he was confident she only giggled for him.

Melinda drew her legs up against his hips searching for more contact with him. He was driving her insane slowing kissing his way up her legs.

He wanted to taste her quickly removing her black cotton but still very sexy panties. He noticed she was intently watching him then he took a tentative first lick and saw and felt her relax against the pillows.

She tasted as sweet as he’d always imagined her to taste. He had fantasised about how she would taste quite a number of times but the tangy taste had never seemed like her. He licked and sucked, teeth occasionally scraping against sensitive flesh. One finger rubbed and pinched at her clit taking her higher and nearer to her climax. His tongue in her brought a gasp out of her, her chest heaving. He was surprised by how vocal she was being having imagined her much quitter.

When he felts the tell-tale signs of her peak he inserted first one then two fingers into her, curling his fingers and hitting that spot until with one lascivious suck at her clit her thighs clamped around his head.

 She let out a scream that was muffled by the pillow she had turned her face into and he couldn’t help the smug grin that spread across his face. It was gone in a flash because he knew he’d pay _somehow,_ if she did see.  

He was able to extricate himself from them as he rode her through her climax, his fingers pumping into her until he felt she the spasms die down. She looked down at him and a smile pulling at her lips which he returned.

She reached down for him fusing their lips together with a hunger that had him removing her bra as quickly as she rid him of his boxer briefs. The warm hand that closed around him and started to pump, twisting on the down stroke, was going to be his undoing so he removed it.

He drew his hands under her knees looking into her eyes for any hesitation. Seeing none and knowing Melinda could easily and would go after what she wanted he drew a finger along her testing if she was ready.

Sex had mostly been a way for her to relieve tension and so she’d mostly been in control but with Phil she didn’t feel the need to be on top, to set the pace, chase after her peak.

“I need you,” she said ending on a whimper as he teased his head against her. He captured her lips in a searing kiss as he pushed in slowly, anticipating the moan deep in her throat.

He set a slow rhythm, using deep sensual strokes that caused a hitch in her breath whenever he was buried fully in her. He clutched her breast, squeezing it and rubbing the hardened nipple. Her hands were moving along his back pressing harder whenever he was buried to the hilt in her.

She drew her legs up and locked her ankles at his lower back, the shift in angle sending him deeper. He began to pick up speed and her moans grown louder interspersed with breathless _Phil_ s and _yes_ es.

He could feel her end approaching so he drew one of her legs to higher and opened her wider. He drove in much harder and her hands left his back reaching behind her to hold onto the headboard as his thrusts sent her further up the bed.

She whimpered when he drew one of her legs higher and to the side, opening her up more to him. It allowed him to rub against her clit as he withdrew.   

“Melinda, look at me,” he begged as her eyes were falling shut. She opened them and locked eyes with him, the sexy timbre of his desire laden voice sending her over the edge. She arched impossibly into him, her hands abandoning the headboard to rake down his back; the way she screamed his name and the spasms of her orgasm were enough to draw out his climax right after hers.

 

“How long?” she asked as she drew patterns on his tummy, her head lying on his chest.

“It was definitely the Seychelles,” his voice retaining a wistful quality to it as he continued to card his fingers through her hair. “The red dress, especially the _slit_ on that red dress” he continues after some time, “and the way you took down Browne; I just kept denying it.”

She remembered the long evening gown with a simply sinful slit she’d donned as they chased after Browne, banker to some of the worst of the worst criminal enterprises at the time.

“What about you?” he asked after she had been silent for some time.

“It was the first time I saw you wearing glasses. You were in the library and I just knew,” she remembered how she’d almost not recognised him at first, the kind of dorky but cool guy in her class.

She’d gone and sat next to him and they’d talked for an hour the librarian threatening to kick them out the third time laughter erupted from them. She’d already liked him but that was the moment she’d known Phil Coulson had gotten under her skin; he’d unassumingly slipped past her defences, and wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's hoping I didn't totally screw up their voices, feelings, emotions blah blah blah. Hope you liked it!


End file.
